


lay down your arms, you don't have to fight with me

by sevensevan



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, and just as sappy as all the other ones :), another self-indulgent 'morning after the finale' fic, baby gays learn about communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25799302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: “I’m sorry,” Catra says again as she dribbles antiseptic onto the cuts. She keeps her claws pretty clean, but it isn’t worth risking an infection.“I know,” Adora says, watching Catra work. “It’s okay.”“Itreallyisn’t.”“Sookayisn’t the right word.” Adora sighs. “Look, Catra…we spentyearstrying to kill each other. That isn’t going to just go away. It’s going to take time to unlearn.”(The morning after the Heart of Etheria, Catra hurts Adora one more time.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 567





	lay down your arms, you don't have to fight with me

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys i actually wrote something happy!! this is new territory for me!!!

Catra isn’t sure where she is when she wakes up.

It takes her a minute of peering through half-open eyes, frowning at the swathes of color around her, to remember. Bright Moon. The Heart, Shadow Weaver, Horde Prime, _Adora_. And then Bright Moon. Skipping the tour of the palace Glimmer had offered to go straight to Adora’s room and sleep for—well, judging by the fact that there’s sunlight streaming in the windows and Catra is hungry, apparently a long time.

Catra becomes aware of a weight against her side. She spends a solid fifteen seconds working up the energy to turn her head and look. It’s so warm and comfortable beneath the blankets, and there’s a patch of sunlight right where Catra is lying. She doesn’t want to move. Eventually, though, she flops her head to the left, and she’s well rewarded for her efforts.

Adora is lying beside her, half on top of her, wrapped around Catra’s side. She’s asleep. Her hair is loose, spilling messily across the pillows beneath them. Her mouth is open, frozen in a yawn. She looks ridiculous. If they were kids in the Horde, Catra would be waking Adora up right now to make fun of her.

Instead, Catra closes her eyes, the image of Adora’s peacefully sleeping face imprinted behind her eyelids, and dozes off again.

She drifts in and out of sleep this time. Quiet, peaceful darkness is interspersed with flashes of sunlight and the warmth of Adora at her side. Eventually, she drifts close enough to wakefulness that she feels Adora shifting beside her. Dimly, she registers the press of lips against her forehead, hears Adora’s voice whisper something that Catra is too sleepy to understand. Then Adora’s presence fades, and Catra slips back into a deeper sleep.

The second time she wakes up, she’s alone.

She waits for a moment for panic to set in. She waits for her brain to go haywire— _Adora isn’t here, she made a mistake, she doesn’t want me_ —but it doesn’t. The sheets are still warm to Catra’s left. Wherever Adora has gone, it wasn’t long ago. Catra opens her eyes fully this time, staring up at the distant ceiling and waking up slowly. She isn’t sure how long she’s slept for, but they had gone to bed before sunset the night before, and it’s a new day outside. She feels _rested_ , for the first time in…since the portal, probably.

A door opens. Catra props herself up on her elbows and turns to look at the sound.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Adora says, frowning as she kicks the door shut behind her. She’s balancing a tray in her arms, laden with foods that Catra doesn’t recognize—all of which smell _delicious_. “I was hoping to get back before you woke up.”

“Where’d you go?” Catra asks. She sits up the rest of the way and leans back against the headboard.

“The kitchens,” Adora says. She crosses the room and sits down beside Catra on the bed, balancing the tray on her thighs. “I figured we’d have breakfast in bed.” She says the words like they have some kind of meaning, some connotation that Catra is missing out on. Catra doesn’t spend much time worrying about it. The food smells even better up close, and now that she’s thinking about it, Catra isn’t sure when she last ate.

“What is all this stuff, anyway?” Catra asks, grabbing a bowl off the tray and eyeing its contents curiously. It’s filled with small green cubes that smell sweet.

“That’s melon,” Adora says. That doesn’t really mean anything to Catra. She grabs one of the chunks between her fingertips and examines it closely. Adora makes a quiet, amused noise beside her. “Do you maybe want a fork?” she asks, picking one up from the side of the tray and holding it out to Catra.

“Nah.” Catra pops the piece of melon in her mouth and chews slowly. It isn’t bad, but it doesn’t taste like much, either. It’s just vaguely sweet. “What about this?” Catra says, setting down the bowl of melon and grabbing a different bowl from the tray at random.

They work their way through breakfast like that—Catra picking a food from the frankly _absurd_ variety that Adora brought, asking Adora about it, and trying it cautiously. Adora knows so much about all of the food, even which fruits are best in which seasons, and it reminds Catra uncomfortably of how long Adora has been here. Bright Moon is her home now; even this room _feels_ like Adora, and Catra still doesn’t know what real food is supposed to taste like. She has so much to learn about life outside the Horde.

Eventually, they’re both full—well before the food on the tray is depleted. Adora lifts it up and sets it aside on the little table by the bed. She turns back to Catra, smiling softly.

“Hi,” she whispers. Catra rolls her eyes.

“Hey, Adora,” she says. Adora turns a little pink at the words, which is exactly what Catra was going for.

“Um, can I…” Adora trails off. Her eyes fall to Catra’s lips, and it’s obvious what she wants.

“Depends,” Catra says. Adora’s eyes snap back up to Catra’s, a moment of panic flashing through them. “Can you ask for it for real?” The panic vanishes, replaced by another smile.

“Can I kiss you?” Adora whispers. Catra grins at her, unable to hold it back any longer.

“Yeah, you can,” she whispers back. Adora takes the permission and runs with it. She leans in, and Catra’s grin drops away as Adora finally kisses her.

It’s their first kiss since the Heart. Glimmer and Bow had been around _constantly_ yesterday, and when Catra and Adora had finally gotten some privacy in Adora’s room, Catra had gone to take a shower. When she had returned, Adora had already fallen asleep. Catra had climbed into bed beside her, and the next thing she knew, it was morning. They just hadn’t had time.

This kiss is—if one were to ask Catra, at least—better than their first. Of course, there’s no explosions, or sickly green light, and Adora isn’t half-dead in her arms, but beyond that, it just feels…easier. There had been so much _desperation_ before, so much fear and pain and the world ending around them. Catra had wondered, last time, if kissing Adora would be the last thing she ever did.

There’s none of that this time. It’s just the two of them, kissing in a patch of sunlight in Adora’s bed. The world firmly beneath them instead of resting on Adora’s shoulders.

“Wow,” Adora whispers as she pulls back. Catra grins, ducking her head as she feels a blush working its way through her skin, matching the pink tinge on Adora’s face.

“Dork,” Catra mutters. Adora reaches out with one hand, grabbing Catra’s shoulder—

—and for a moment, in Catra’s eyes, Adora is She-Ra. Coldly angry, righteous, vengeful, reaching out to hurt Catra again.

Catra hisses, knocks Adora’s hand away, and throws herself backwards to the opposite edge of the bed. Adora startles, eyes widening. She pulls her hand back, clutching it to her chest with her other hand, and it’s only then that Catra realizes that her claws are out.

“Catra,” Adora says, and she sounds _hurt_. Catra curls her shoulders forward, closing in around the guilt that’s welling up in her chest. “What…”

“Sorry,” Catra says. She stumbles off of the bed, nearly falling onto the floor. She looks down at her hand, and her stomach turns over at the sight of blood on her claws. _Adora’s_ blood. _Again_. “Oh gods, I’m sorry, I just—“ She turns, scanning the room for a way out.

“Catra,” Adora says again. “Don’t run.” Catra freezes in place. Adora rises from the bed. She pulls her injured hand away from her chest, examining it in the sunlight, and Catra is both relieved and sickened to see that the cuts aren’t very deep. They probably won’t even scar.

“I’m sorry,” Catra says again. Her claws are itching. She needs to clean them. Her instincts are clamoring at her to get to it, but she’s licked Adora’s blood off her hands before. She doesn’t want to taste it again.

“What happened?” Adora asks, looking up at Catra. She doesn’t even look _angry_. Catra wishes she looked angry. Catra deserves that.

“You reached for me,” Catra says. “I wasn’t expecting it, and it…I guess it scared me. It felt like we were fighting again.” Something shifts on Adora’s face, and she gets a look in her eye that the spiteful part of Catra wants to call pity. The side of her that’s getting better, though, recognizes it as sympathy.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Adora says. Catra crosses her arms and looks away.

“I know,” she says. She digs her claws into her biceps, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to punish herself for hurting Adora. Only…Catra’s learned, lately, that it doesn’t usually help anyone to suffer for the harm she’s done. So she drops her arms back to her sides and says, “Can I clean that for you?”

“Huh?” Adora glances down at her injured hand. “Sure. If you want.” Catra nods, and, without a word, turns and crosses the room to the adjoining bathroom. She hears Adora’s footsteps following close behind her.

Catra washes her own hands in the sink first, rinsing the drops of Adora’s blood from her claws. Once her hands are dry, she digs a first aid kit out from the cabinet above the sink and steps over to Adora, who is sitting on top of the toilet lid, watching Catra with unblinking eyes.

“Hand,” Catra mutters, flicking the sink on again. Adora holds it out without comment, not even flinching as Catra turns her hand this way and that under the water, rinsing out the shallow cuts. Once they’re clean, Catra turns the water off and pats her hand dry with a wad of gauze.

“I’m sorry,” Catra says again as she dribbles antiseptic onto the cuts. She keeps her claws pretty clean, but it isn’t worth risking an infection.

“I know,” Adora says, watching Catra work. “It’s okay.”

“It _really_ isn’t.”

“So _okay_ isn’t the right word.” Adora sighs. “Look, Catra…we spent _years_ trying to kill each other. That isn’t going to just go away. It’s going to take time to unlearn.”

“But it’s—“ Catra grits her teeth, going silent until she’s done wrapping a bandage around Adora’s hand. “It’s _stupid_ ,” she says when she’s finished, looking up at Adora. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“What, this?” Adora says, holding her hand up. “This doesn’t hurt at all.” She grins. It doesn’t make Catra feel any better.

“That’s not the point, Adora,” she says quietly. “You shouldn’t have to put up with me hurting you. That’s not—that’s not acceptable.” Adora drops her hand back to her lap, her smile dropping with it.

“So we figure it out,” she says. “Would it help if I asked next time? Before I try to touch you?” Catra considers it for a moment. Adora had asked to kiss her, and her leaning in hadn’t scared Catra at all.

“Probably,” Catra says. She sits down on the edge of the bathtub, close enough to Adora that their knees bump together. She sets her elbows on her thighs and buries her face in her hands. “It’s just stupid,” she says, voice muffled. “I shouldn’t have to make my girlfriend ask every time she wants to touch me.”

“I’m your girlfriend?” Adora asks. Catra peeks through her fingers and sees Adora grinning like an idiot, eyes sparkling. Despite herself, Catra smiles into her palms.

“Well, yeah,” she says. “Aren’t you?”

“Definitely,” Adora says, nodding. “ _Definitely_.”

“Cool.” Catra keeps her head in her hands, definitely not hiding a grin.

“And it’s not stupid,” Adora says after a minute. “If I wanna touch you, I can ask. It’s not stupid if you need that.”

“But…” Catra sighs, finally lowering her hands and looking over at Adora. “You deserve better than that. You deserve someone you can touch without…” She gestures at Adora’s bandaged hand.

“Maybe,” Adora says, and Catra’s stomach drops with panic. “But people keep saying that I deserve to get what I want.”

“You do,” Catra says immediately. Adora nods.

“Then I want you,” she says. “However you’ll have me. If that means asking…” She shrugs.

“Really?” Catra asks. “You’re okay with that?”

“I’m okay with anything that keeps you here with me,” Adora says. “Happy and…not fighting anymore.” She half-smiles at Catra, eyes a deeper blue than usual in the warm light of the bathroom. “Besides, it might not be like this forever. It could get easier for you eventually.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Catra whispers. “What if I’m like this forever?”

“Then I’ll be asking to kiss you a lot,” Adora says, and Catra finally _settles_. The pieces of her that didn’t quite believe it in the Heart when Adora kissed her back fall silent. Adora is here. Adora is _staying_.

“I love you,” Catra says. Saying it out loud makes her heart jump nervously, and she wonders if it’ll ever stop doing that.

“I love you, too,” Adora says. “Can I have your hand?” Catra gives her a weird look, but holds out her right hand—the one she used to cut Adora open only minutes ago. Adora takes it in both of hers. Her touch is gentle, almost soothing, and Catra doesn’t see She-Ra. Only Adora, pressing kisses to each of Catra’s fingertips, millimeters away from the retracted claws that have torn her apart, over and over again.

“I’m gonna need stuff too, you know,” Adora says when she’s done, lowering Catra’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “I don’t…know what yet. I’ve never really thought about it. But I’ve never done this before, and at some point, I’ll need something from you.”

“Anything,” Catra says. Her fingertips are tingling, and the back of her hand where Adora’s fingers rest against her skin.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Adora says. “Together. We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.” Catra squeezes Adora’s hand, and Adora smiles at her.

“C’mon,” Adora says, standing up. “I want to lie around and cuddle until someone needs us. If that’s okay with you.”

“Yes,” Catra says without hesitation, standing as well. Adora’s delighted laughter echoes off the walls as they cross the bedroom floor again, and for the first time since she watched She-Ra turn into Adora in the ruins of Thaymor, every part of Catra truly believes that she’s going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all liked it! if you like my writing, check out my other catradora fics; i have a college au that's almost finished that i'm real proud of. follow me on tumblr @sevens-evan for prompt fics and generally a lot of spop content, and on twitter @sevens_evan if that's your thing. please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


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